Inevitable
by misericordia98
Summary: He stole her light and devoured it... and she never said anything. /Two-shot/
1. I

_A/N: This is a pairing I have adored for about ten years now and I've read lots of fics about it, but last night it occurred to me that I haven't written anything myself. So it was more of a necessity than anything._

 _Also, I dedicate this to_ _ **SirenMist**_ _, who once upon a time (around 6 years ago) was sweet enough to write to me a one-shot I requested within her_ _ **Messing With Valentine**_ _series (Chapter 38 - Difficult). I was in love with the series for so long and I don't know if she's still around, but I thank her nonetheless. A tight hug to you,_ _ **Siren**_ _!_

* * *

 **Inevitable**

 _He was burning… but the sensation was neither painful nor pleasant, it was just brimming over the edge of the unbearable, constantly and relentlessly. It was maddening and he wished it would stop, but it didn't. He was an ember, a cluster of darkness and fire that tore him apart every second and swelter had gathered at the center of his chest, pressing it with a tangible weight. A half-sound escaped his dry lips, he couldn't breathe._

 _He was thirsty, but the darkness was thick and hot, and something stung at the back of his eyes. He wanted to escape this crushing sorrow, but his eyes were burning with a glow he could feel. A low, menacing groan came out of his mouth and panic rose within him – he was enchained. Cold hardness was spread underneath his form, maybe stone or concrete, he wasn't sure, but he tried to get a grip of… to no avail. His body lied broken and he couldn't really move._

 _He managed to shift a few inches further. Dull pain pulsated through his whole bloodstream, but it was easy to ignore when the overwhelming headache threatened to destroy his sanity. It was dark, he couldn't see anything. The nipping, metallic scent of blood was all around him._

 _Sudden, sharp steps echoed somewhere close to him and he heard them approaching, along with a high-pitched snicker he knew all too well. His whole being spasmed with pain and his breathing shallowed. Just not this again. Anything but this._

 _"Beautiful!" Hojo exclaimed excitedly. "I am overjoyed with the results. Hmm, how very interesting… I only need to check what would happen if I give you my most innovative serum. It will blow your mind," He giggled, nearing him fast. "I promise, it's the last one."_

 _"Ple… please." Vincent breathed out, the panic already bursting in every cell of his body._

 _"You and me, we're making history. You can't just give up right now, not when I know that you're strong enough. The strongest I've ever had."_

 _No, he didn't want any more experiments. It hurt. Please, someone, make him stop. Sharp, needle-like pain at the base of his forearm struck him and he cried out, helpless to change anything or stop the madness of it all._

 _"Open your eyes now. Come on, come on." Hojo beckoned him with a gentleness that brought instant nausea, but he overcame it and forced his eyes open. There was a fractured image of something ugly and inhuman staring back at him in a mirror as well as a pair of deep, haunting, crimson eyes. It was so hot that it felt like he couldn't cry even now as crying was an utmost need. Excruciating pain quickly spread over his fingers and hand, and it dizzied him almost to losing consciousness._

 _"Dammit. Skin necrosis…" Hojo's flowing murmur of sincere despair touched his overly sharpened senses. "I thought you're gonna take this one fairly well, Valentine. I'm disappointed… Ugh, It's gonna be a problem if it ruins your heart and all so I guess I'll have to get rid of it the quick way… Don't worry, though. I'll think of some cool replacement of the tissue, you'll be as good as new! Let me just go take my scalpel."_

 _His eyes were still dry and wide open in horror. The reflection was clear and foul, and the sound of Hojo's brogues echoed away sonorously in the laboratory._

 _"I should probably use a saw. Your calcium-reinforcement is gonna make it nearly impossible to cut through the bone… We don't want to break any of my instruments now, do we?"_

 _An impulse or a tick, he wasn't sure, but it coursed through him and he tried to shift again, tugging harshly at the chains on his wrists and ankles, but they were heavily enhanced. Because he was not the first at his table. He wasn't gonna be the last as well. There was nothing he could do._

" _Be a good boy and lay still because this is gonna hurt a bit."_

 _Hojo's voice rang out in his mind and sent a harsh, cold shiver through his broken and scarred body._

 _A saw?_

* * *

The awakening came sharp, as a quick snap that dragged him up to a sitting position, and he gasped for air desperately. The air was as if condensed and thick to his lungs, and it took him quite a lot of time to regain his control. The feeling of it all was stained inside of his mind, imprinted on his eyelids and still echoing dreadfully with every quick heartbeat in his chest.

His room was dark and empty. The faint moonlight sifted through the curtains of the wide window for a few seconds before disappearing to the shifting masses of clouds the wind shifted easily. His fist loosened the sheets and he slowly raised his left hand. The menacing silhouette of the metallic claw and its sharp talons was the object of his attention for one long minute before he uncovered from the sheets and started dressing up feverishly.

Then grabbed his cloak and disappeared through the door.

* * *

"Hey, Vincent." Tifa greeted, with a badly concealed surprise. She had paused her rag's round motions over the bar's surface and now looked at him, up and down, as he approached her with uncertainty. "You seem really pale, everything alright?"

Vincent leaned on the counter, eyes nailed on the strapped wood. He wasn't sure why he came here in the first place, but in any case, he could use some noise. Any kind of noise. Even a human's voice was better than his quiet apartment. He feared that place held less and less charm for him with every night he spent there. The clink of glass touching glass dragged his attention and he raised his eyes.

"Don't act all surprised." Tifa glanced up to him with a playful smile. "You even skip the visits on holidays and now you show up past midnight and try to indirectly convince me it just randomly occurred to you to come by on a workday."

Vincent furrowed, eyes down at the glass she pushed it to him. It was filled with something dark that suspiciously looked like a strong alcoholic mead.

"Thank you." He managed a hoarse reply and Tifa shrugged, continuing with her cleaning process, likely to give him a little space.

Her eyes were on him from time to time, but when he drank the whole glass at once and squinted at the stinging of the alcohol, her lips parted with astonishment and her hands stilled again. He reached for the bottle she left not far from him and poured more of its contents in his glass.

"Vincent." She called, evenly, but he cut her off nonchalantly.

"How is Cloud doing?"

Tifa scowled, putting a hand on her hip, but after the long, judgmental pout she gave him, she decided it's time for her to continue cleaning with a sigh.

"Getting on my nerves a lot lately, but… yeah. You know." She rubbed a stubborn stain a bit more harshly. "The usual."

"Good."

The pause extended after his reply and he decided it's convenient for him to gulp down his second glass. Getting drunk was nearly impossible with his metabolism and ever-regenerating cells so it was the momentary daze he was aiming for. The daze that hit him a few seconds after he drank the alcoholic beverage.

"How about the kids?"

Tifa narrowed eyes at him, he could feel her intent burning a hole in him as he admired the glass in his hands with feigned interest. Why was he there, again?

"The kids are just fine. Unlike you." Came the slow reply. "Excuse me." Then footsteps, to which he grew curious, and… buttons of a phone.

Maybe she had work to do. No, it was just too late and he was intruding. He really had to leave. To where, though? His apartment? Vincent detached from the bar and stepped to the door reluctantly. Then he stopped, turning to the corridor from which was now echoing Tifa's low murmur. Wherever she was in the building, he was going to hear her voice thanks to his strong hearing ability anyway. Trying not to listen was a lost cause.

 _"Yeah, you better come back soon… because it's bad. Like, really bad… A bottle, yeah. Ok…"_

Vincent furrowed for a moment, then… guilt stung him.

Was she feeling intimidated by his presence? He couldn't quite tell who was she talking to, but he decided to leave, thinking it's best. Vincent headed straight for the door, culpability storming his whole being. Whatever pains he's been through tonight were not anything new, neither they required sharing of any kind. He's seen worse.

Reaching a friend was something he's never done before, used to coping on his own. It was just that… he thought he'd find something here, but he didn't know what. Company? Warmth? As if they'd help him. Even if they did for a moment, even if they did help him for a week, a year or a lifetime… those people were going to disappear, turn into ash and dust and he was going to be left there, in the silence again, with a gaping wound. A wound that he has created himself, letting them become a part of his life or letting himself care about them.

It was wrong, all of it. He could manage on his own, he had to.

"Vincent, you're leaving already?" Tifa shouted after him and he faced her inconveniently, hand pushing the entrance door open.

"Yes. I am sorry for bothering you. Good night."

"But- Vincent, wait!"

He didn't hear the end, pacing down the alley with a fair amount of dread smoldered up in his heart. How ridiculous. Why did he go there in the first place? The heavy howl of the wind just unnerved him more as he shifted through the shadows of Midgar's slums, body wired with anger. Harsh shivers crawled down his spine and he stopped in a desolate and dark alley, at last, and leaned on the stone.

Those sensations were odd and unfamiliar to him, and he was failing to control the fear that rose in him. All those previous times he felt dizzy like that, he lost consciousness and transformed into something that… hurt people. He promised to himself to not let that happen ever again. No… no, no. Please, no.

Strange, painful shivers spread through his body and gathered at his center, and he struggled to keep himself on his feet, but it made him want to bend in two or at least fall on his knees. The struggle seemed awfully prolonged as the metal of his claw screeched against the cold concrete and he leaned to it for support, until the pain didn't increase and he gave up, in the end.


	2. II

_"… the living proof that no matter how old men are, they're still dumb. As. Hell."_

 _"I'm sure he had a rough day or something. Be careful in there."_

 _"Rough day, huh? When does he_ _not_ _have a rough day? I'm sure it's one of those days when he's forgotten to eat or something. How stupid you must be to forget such a thing…_ _and you gave him a whole bottle of this?_ _"_

 _"I didn't know-"_

 _"And Cloud didn't have to put that on him!"_

 _"Listen, I think you should spend some time with him when he wakes up. Just to be sure…"_ There was a pause, then a sigh. _"Cloud and I, we're really worried, but he just… I don't know, he trusts you more. Talk to him."_

 _"He's not really into talking, you know. And_ Chaos _? Nope."_

The voices were muffled and distant at first, then he realized they came from behind an ajar door.

"Yuffie?" He called out quietly and desperately. That murmur was so much like Tifa and that high-pitch was familiar as well… Was she there? "Yuffie?" His eyes opened to a sort of a bedroom with a switched on soft reading light. He laid on one of the beds, under blankets.

The unpleasant sensations still whirled inside him and there was a new one as well – an ache of his right wrist. Something metallic gripped and hurt the skin of his undamaged hand, somewhere up and close to his head, and he wished to get rid of it, but couldn't really move, feeling heavy and dizzy.

His gaze shifted to the window. It was still dark outside, perhaps the small hours. The curtains and the drawer on the other side, the second bed… The Seventh Heaven. Upon lifting his body, a sharp headache attacked him and the bind of his wrist rang with a heavy clink that he knew all too well. Handcuffs? He groaned, relaxing back on the pillow helplessly.

"Heyа." A young voice made him fix on the door again, where Yuffie was standing, with some uncharacteristically reserved, cautious air around her. "Any new feelings of anger or strong desires to destroy the world I should know about?"

He furrowed, then the panic invaded his mind and his breaths became sharper and shallower.

"Did I hurt anyone? Why am I chained to the bed?" He breathed out, afraid that his real voice might be shaking too much. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," Yuffie announced, clicking the door shut and gifting him with a dashing smile. "Tifa called Cloud and told him that you're being weird, and then they found you unconscious on the ground not far from here. Great story." Yuffie clasped her hands together and made a few steps closer, stopping to the other bed's frame. "Is Chaos messing with you again, Vinnie? Because you should share those things with your mates down here. We don't wanna be fighting _that_ one, ya know. He's only strong enough to wipe out the whole Gaia at the first try."

Vincent shook his head, feeling a little short of breath and a slight stinging at the back of his eyes. "I…" His eyes blurred, unexpectedly even for him (because he didn't fail to notice the flinch-like, backwards motion Yuffie made when she caught him in such a hopeless state). That lump in his throat, the one he had when he woke up from his nightmare, returned to him and his vocal chords were just shut down. His whole being just struggled to grab onto something that will stop that dread from drowning him, refusing to make a sound. He hasn't felt as tired for a long time.

Yuffie was astonished at first, she bravely held his eyes for one long moment before glancing at the door and nearing his bed slowly. Her hand went up to her head to nimbly remove something from there before sitting on the right side of his bed.

"Cloud is so dumb sometimes. As if a handcuff would stop you from killing us all if you wanted to…" Yuffie mumbled quietly, intently working her way into the cuff's latch with the help of her hairpin until it clicked open.

Vincent observed how she carefully removed the cuff from his hand and put in on the bedside cabinet. She tried hard to not express anything at all, but he could tell she was somewhat upset. It was in her eyes and the tension of her frail body, stooping and tired as well.

"You should get some sleep, cowboy." Yuffie forced out a chuckle and rose up sharply as if remembering it wasn't right to sit there.

"Yuffie, wait." He pleaded, his hand trying to reach hers as she shifted, but failed. "Please, can't you…"

Yuffie looked at him with some strange spark in her eyes, he hoped it was of hope because he did not know what he was doing and what mess he was getting into with that plea. Something broke off in him after that nightmare and he hated the feeling of it, but it threatened to come back with a full force if he didn't seek an escape from it.

"Stay," He paused," …here?"

 _Just for a moment._

Vincent was frightened that she'd read the wrong things into it and would doom him to spend the next hours with his demons. _(With his demon.)_ It was beyond explanation, what he actually required, but no one was willing to get close. Yuffie has always been the bravest. She always got close and he always brushed her away. The pain of being close to him scarred, no matter how they looked at it. No matter the intention or the strength of their love or friendship.

Everything faltered, everything died near him. No one deserved such faith and he believed that. But now, for the first time he felt like the selfishness in him took over and he blamed his fear and his cowardice, the ones that still lingered inside the cavities of his heart. He couldn't save Lucrecia, couldn't stop Hojo in time, couldn't save Sephiroth from himself, couldn't protect many innocent when he had to, when it was up to him to protect them…

The soft shadows fell on Yuffie's youthful face and darkened it a tad as she stared back at him and clearly estimated the levels of his insanity. Then she thudded her way back to the bed and removed her shoes quickly, before lifting up the blankets and lying next to him with some sort of smugness on her, maybe to show him she accepted his challenge and was not afraid. He could tell she wasn't.

Her hands wrapped around his, the one that wasn't armored, like she usually did when there was no one around them to tease her about it, hazel eyes never leaving his crimson dark. She liked clinging to him like that, but only to annoy him. Never like this, never tender. The guilt was killing him, but he held her gaze stubbornly, ignoring all other pains. She smiled sincerely now, cheerful as she always was, and leaned closer, touching their foreheads.

"Blood-poisoning." He stated, and if he hadn't done it calmly, she was positively going to jump in surprise. Instead, she just raised a brow in utter confusion.

"Is this a game?" She squinted. "Is it my turn to throw a scary random word at you?"

He didn't allow her to go on, taking a deep breath. "The skin on my hand is practically agglutinated to the metal so the toxins just flow freely and accumulate until the blood can't take it and it all leads to a painful fit like this one. About an hour after I fall unconscious, my cells are fully regenerated and ready to take in the toxins again. It's happened before so… no, it's not Chaos."

Yuffie just swallowed down with a slow nod after he finished and visibly withered.

"Agglutinated?" She asked, through a whisper. The corners of her eyes gleamed with tears again. "You remember what happened or…?"

Vincent hesitated whether to go further into the subject, knowing how fragile Yuffie was and how quickly she changed emotional states.

"I was awake."

The tears fell down the bridge of her nose and cheek as she nodded comprehensively, grateful for the answer. "Yeah. Sure." She murmured, both hands slowly sliding down and brought his up the line of their eyes.

The subject was majorly upsetting her so he remained silent. The lines on his palm seemingly served as her diversion from it because she scrutinized them with uncharacteristic intent.

She had darker lines around her burnished chocolate eyes, he noticed, and her eyelids fell lower with tiredness, but there was a gleam of curiosity in her. They have never been as close for so long, but... the closer she came the calmer she became, opposite to everyone else. Oddly enough, he was feeling calmer too. It wasn't like her to be so silent, though.

His breath hitched a bit when her thumbs unexpectedly sank in the hand valley point between his index and thumb with much more strength than necessary.

"Yuffie, what are you doing?"

"Uhm, nothing. Trying your pressure points are still working on this hand." Yuffie turned to him with sincere

"They are."

Yuffie's fingers caressed the inner side of his palm thoughtfully and then pressed again, pursing her lips with comical resolve. She had something completely different on her mind, he mused, but she was so young and so transparent to him that she didn't have to even try concealing it. Her face was lit up with the softness of the reading light so he revered in it for a while before deciding to near her a bit.

"Yuffie," He called, close to her ear, and she slightly shuddered. Her thorough examination continued, but he could see the matte rosiness on her cheeks darkening. "Please don't do that."

"Do what?" Yuffie snapped quickly, refusing to look at him.

"You know what."

"Why, 'cause I'm gonna die someday and leave you crying and all?" Yuffie continued with her flat intonation of altered indifference. Then she snorted, "If you are even _able_ to cry at all."

Vincent wrested his hand off her grip, making face him, clearly flustered.

"It's not funny," He breathed out, the clashing desperation in him swelling again. However he had looked at it, it wasn't right. None of it.

"Then what am I doing here? You've got a sudden change of heart or what?" Yuffie huffed, holding his gaze for one long moment. Then she tore it away angrily and heaved up, reaching to the blankets to uncover herself. Leaving her to go, though, that was the worst that he could do – to himself and to her as well. Because she was the only one who understood that he was not the same as everyone else; that he needed saving all the time; that he had no choice but to live on a borderline between the living and the dead.

 _What you've always done, Yuffie. Indulging my selfishness._

Vincent grabbed and pulled her back before she could get off the bed. She did nothing to oppose, almost relieved that he had claimed her back. Her silence was so thick by the time they found themselves face to face again that he could feel it tangibly in-between them.

He often imagined begging her to stay longer, to keep talking the way she did, tattling in the background carelessly and making him feel like he's not alone and not within the desolation his mind believed he is. He often imagined there wasn't a forty-year gap between them to make him feel like he's been ripped away from her by a massive gap of time that separated them.

He wished she wasn't so far from him and his whole world.

"Ok, I get it. You should sleep and you totally need me to do that. Which makes no sense because you're usually vexed with me after a five-minute conversation." Yuffie remarked suddenly, breaking the silence with a chuckle, eyes crinkled and warm against his. "Weirdo."

The stinging behind his eyelids was merciless and relentless. Her brightness had that effect on him, it seems. He closed his eyes before they could betray him and leaned on her forehead, his claw pressing her body closer to his and under the warmth of the blanket.

He felt her shift slightly, to switch the light off, but her body came just as close as before and surprisingly for him, even closer. Yuffie most shamelessly wrapped her leg around his waist and her hand she slipped under his and rested it on his back. That was more like her.

Her warmth was distracting him from the guilt that still hung low over him and he tried to tuck at the back of his mind. Doing things at her expense has gradually turned into a tradition and he sank deeper and deeper. He stole her light and devoured it... and she never said anything.

"Vincent, you must close your eyes and relax in order to fall asleep, you know that right?" Yuffie spoke out in the silence and shifted, to detach from him, but his claw pressed against her back to keep her close and not moving.

"Yuffie," He started, but the words deafened and faded in his mind, he remained silent once again.

"What?"

The eagerness in her voice was bordering on annoyance. He knew her patience was close to nonexistent and she always went into overdrive, trying to wait him out. So, it was all the more frustrating when he forced himself to speak. Anything.

"I know we're both going to suffer because of this," Vincent spoke reluctantly and paused a bit before continuing, "but it seems to me that it is inevitable."

" _Did you just admit you have a crush on me?!"_ Yuffie exclaimed in a loud whisper, clicking her tongue and then burying herself in the crook of his neck. Her murmur came almost like a low buzzing to him. "Jeez, the nerve on this guy… Hitting on me since we met! No manners whatsoever."

Vincent couldn't help but smile in the dark. For the first time in weeks. It was lighter in his heart than it was a few hours ago, when he woke up.

"This is a bad idea." Vincent sighed, leaning to kissing her hair. "I am fond of you."

" _Fond of me,"_ Yuffie repeated, then continued with a tease. "Is this all you got?"

"Don't test me, Yuffie," Vincent announced evenly and she vibrated with a quiet giggle, head lifting up and lips meeting his with a bold, unnerving kiss that got him completely unprepared, but before he could stop her, his mind overwhelmed with shock, she had backed away.

"How about something like that, huh?" Yuffie laid back down and sighed, preparing herself to sleep as if nothing had happened, tapping him on the back. "You're a little bit old-fashioned, love. I'm gonna have to teach you a few things about my generation."

Vincent, of course, spent the next three hours still and silent, and in horror, wondering if he hasn't made a mistake. Then he fell asleep, certain that there won't be any nightmares bothering him. And so it was.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading, loves! I hoped you liked it as much as I liked writing it. I love Yuffentine and always will, they're the cutest._


End file.
